The Fall from Grace
by justonelastregret
Summary: They all knew she wasn't a saint but they never imagined how hard she fell.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter but I do own the plot.**

When you're at the top you don't think about what a long drop it is to the bottom. You don't care that you're walking a tightrope on stilts, that one slipup, no matter how small, sends you free falling from space. All you care about is how you feel. How it feels with his hands on your body. How it feels with the drugs and the booze. How it feels to be _loved_. And Lily that's all you've really ever wanted.

What does it matter that you're in a fast spiral down. That you're falling faster than your family can try to get you back on your feet. What does it matter that the professors know you're ripping apart at the seams, that they smell the fire whiskey on your breath, that they see the scars from the needles covering your arms.

The little voice in the back of your head whispers to you at night when you're both off sleeping in someone else's beds. _Lily you're better than this._ And maybe you are but what does it matter because in their eyes you are their _queen_. But sometimes Lily, that's not good enough.

You want _love_. And he doesn't give that to you. Now that your prince is a peasant what do you do? How do you keep forcing your way out of a stranger's bed to go on living a life that's not a life? How do you get up every day knowing that you'll see every man you ever loved up on cloud nine with a cousin by his side? How do you smile and keep on pretending because love, the drugs aren't working and you're not strong enough to face this world without them.

You toy with that though day after day, night after night. It's your _obsession_ one that's not physically harming you anyway. The first thing that slips into your mind: suicide but where's the fun in that. If you're going out, you're going out with a bang not to the whispers of "Look how Lily has fallen." The next idea enters your head: quitting. It's your last year after all and Head Girls are supposed to be role models. But Lily it's more than that _You want your life back._ You want your family to look you in the eye. You want your father to be proud of you again. You want to dance without having to catch your breath twice every five minutes.

You want to fall in love with a man that will actually love you back.

So you quit. You quit sleeping around. You quit the parties in the Forbidden Forest. You quit sneaking into the Shrieking Shack to get high with a man that doesn't love you. _Lily, is it worth it?_ It's the voice again, the one that voices the thoughts that you're too afraid to. Although this time it's conspiring against you.

Over Easter break you relapse. It's more like coming home. How else where you suppose to react when you see _him_ sneaking out of Albus' room. Grandmum cries when you walk into the Burrow the day before Easter with a bottle of Fire Whiskey in your hand. You can't bring yourself to care. The rest of the family looks at you with pity, fear, and sorrow. You still can't care.

You go back to school and fall into the same routine of Quidditch practices, prefect meetings, parties in the Forbidden Forest, and crying in the Shrieking Shack because he's not there. You don't dance anymore, it hurts too much. A lot of things hurt too much now, breathing included.

June comes around and that means NEWTs. You wish you'd studied now or at least let Hugo help you when he offered. It's hard to be sober enough to focus on the words on the paper. It doesn't matter now, your future's shot. It's starting to scare you; you can't live at home forever.

School ends. You say goodbye to your home of seven years. To the school that did so much to fix you and ruin you. And you say goodbye to _him _because after today you know you'll never see him again. That feeling alone is almost as good as the drugs.

Once you step out of the train Hugo and you are swept away to the sea of red, still there even though you're the only two left. Summer has started and that means parties, beach trips, and weddings. This year it's Dominique and Jason, Fred and Davina, and Roxanne and Lysander and Lily, you're a bridesmaid at all three. _You need to get your act together._ It's a different voice this time, one you don't recognize but it makes you stop and think. How did your life get so far off track? What happened to Little Lily Potter, the girl that always dreamt of being a ballerina? How could you fall that fast in just two years? Why are you such a disaster Lily? How could anyone ever love you?

You want the questions to end; you shove the needles into your veins and drown the pills in amber liquid. They find you three hours later unconscious on the floor surrounded by needles and empty bottles. Harry cries, Ginny screams, and James and Albus don't know what to do. They take you to St. Mungo's where they lock you up for two weeks in a white room with no windows and no door that you can get to. You're released to a house with no alcohol and no locks. You scream and cry and threaten and blow up a window but they don't let you win. Not this time.

You miss the first two weddings and all but one of the beach trips but that's okay because you're finally getting better. The voices have vanished. The scars are starting to fade. The shaking and the pounding and fevers have all gone away. And Lily you might actually make it this time. Dominique shows you the pictures of her wedding and Davina tells you about the honeymoon in America. Rose takes you out for dinner every Friday. You're starting to rebuild.

You see him again in a muggle coffee shop in London, his arms around another girl. It hurts but not as much as it would have before. She's different, better, then you. And maybe he won't ruin her. You want to talk to him but James drags you away before you get the chance. Never before have you been so glad to have an older brother.

Years pass with only one slipup and suddenly you're living the dream you always wanted. You meet a muggle boy who has no idea who you are and what you've done. You move to the country and have three children that you love with all your heart. You open a dance academy in the middle of London and make a point of giving scholarships to troubled girls just like you were.

And Lily, you're happy.


End file.
